Scholarly Interest
by Eve B Hart
Summary: So when Angeline Fowl dropped the bomb, her son wasn’t quite as disturbed or opposed to the idea as he normally would have been..."


Scholarly Interest

Eve B. Hart

Disclaimer: All characters from the Artemis Fowl trilogy belong to Eoin Colfer. The rest belong to me.

Author's Note: This is most definitely written after Artemis had his memory erased, and definitely before he and Mulch meet up again.

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It was scholarly interest, that was all. This was nothing but another one of Artemis Fowl's threads, something to entertain him until a new one came along. The topic, however, was not one that found its way into his mind often - or ever, for that matter. He'd been slightly perturbed when he finally wrapped his mind around the subject and discovered it for what it meant for him. It didn't matter much, though, for he knew the best way to justify himself:

It was scholarly interest, that was all. Dating and relationships were processes that could be broken down and dissected like mathematical equations. It was just a case of finding the correct formula, and he felt on the cusp of finding it. It shouldn't have been too difficult - the mind was, for all intents and purposes, a scientific playground.

So when Angeline Fowl dropped the bomb, her son wasn't quite as disturbed or opposed to the idea as he normally would have been.

He'd been contemplating the theory and practice of courtship ever since the annual dance at Saint Bartleby's last year. Before this, the thought had ventured to enter his mind one or twice, but each time had found the door locked and barred. However, a simple pair of brown eyes had inched their way past the sentries.

At the dance, she'd been sitting at a table near the corner where Artemis had been skulking. His parents - more specifically, his mother - had forced him to come, insisting that he needed more social interaction. The moment that he'd slid into the door of the hall, he didn't believe that this had anything to do with "social interaction" - this was simply cruel and unusual punishment. Eyes had fallen upon him, followed by whispering and frequent stares. The first opportunity he'd had, he'd retreated to the most distant, vacuous place he could, which was in the far right corner of the hall.

After about twenty-five minutes of pure and utter boredom, he began watching people. Surprisingly, he'd found the activity to be quite enjoyable, something he could do alone that allowed his right brain the exercise it had been lacking. He would catch sight of a person and speculate on rumors circling about him, or make up rumors in his mind that seemed to fit what he knew of the individual. For some reason or another, he'd focused on a particularly odious boy by the name of Angus Brody and followed his path to a girl sitting a mere table away.

The girl looked the age of everyone else in the room, with brunette hair drawn into a neat ponytail. She didn't seem miserable to be there, but she wasn't exactly keyed up, either, preferring instead to read a book rather than take part in the promenade. Brody set a glass of punch down on the table near her, but she didn't pay any attention to him.

Artemis was a bit befuddled by this reaction, as he'd seen other girls tonight who had eagerly taken up dance partners in the boys who'd brought them drinks, which were undoubtedly spiked. It was then that Artemis realized how large the difference was between each girl's individual personality. He'd never noticed it before, which spoke to just how little regard Artemis truly had for the fairer sex.

Girls had never held any particular interest in him, probably because the only females he knew personally and with which he interacted were his mother and his manservant's sister, Juliet. It was hardly enough experience by which to form an opinion - he knew it, and therefore had never given girls quite as much attention as they probably deserved. Oh, well.

When the initial shock of this realization had worn off, Artemis discovered that Brody had apparently drifted away, looking for a new prospect, since the former obviously wanted nothing to do with him. As Artemis squinted his eyes, trying to read the title of her book from this far away, a blonde came sauntering quickly up to her. It was only then that the girl lifted her eyes from the tome, listening to her friend. Artemis couldn't hear, what with the pulsating excuse for music that was playing, but he'd been perfecting the art of lip-reading. He was getting to be very good at it, even if he did say so himself.

"Don't look, but Artemis Fowl is staring at you," the blonde had said.

An expectant expression flitted across the brunette's face. "So?"

"Kevin told me he's unbelievably rich, and incredibly high and mighty. They say he's a genius."

"And again I pose the question: so?"

"Oh, shut up, Nat. You wouldn't know a good rumor if it clocked you."

The brunette merely shrugged and went back to her book. The blonde threw her hands up, casting a reproachful glance at Artemis, before stalking back toward the dance floor.

Later, Artemis had found himself in the lavatory. As he was washing his hands, in strutted Kevin Barrymore, Angus Brody, and Kenneth McNamara. While Brody was the worst, the other two were nowhere close to better. All three of them were higher and mightier than Artemis would ever be, and far more antagonistic. Artemis went through life trying to avoid people like them, while they, on the other hand, went through life trying to exert their alleged superiority over others, though they had yet to convince anyone of it.

"She wants me, I can feel it," Brody declared.

"That girl doesn't give a flying fuck about you, Angus," McNamara retorted, leaning against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. It seemed to be one of his favorite positions, probably made him feel intimidating. He didn't feel it, but Artemis had to admit that he looked impressive.

"Yeah, I can't figure out why Abigail brought her. Some stupid girl thing about not wanting to leave 'Nat' alone tonight, feel like abandoning her . . . oh, please!" Barrymore continued to mimic his date as Artemis slipped out of the restroom. However, he stayed near the door to listen to the conversation.

"You're just upset that Abigail still won't put out," McNamara accused.

"And what about Muriel?" Barrymore countered. "At the pace you're going, you'll be a virgin for the rest of your life."

"No," Brody interjected, "you want to talk about virgins for life, start looking at _Fowl_."

Artemis rolled his eyes. Couldn't anyone in this Godforsaken school go two hours without bringing up his name? As they continued taking potshots at him, he became bored and began the walk back to his corner. On the way, he literally ran into the brunette, who dropped her book in the collision. As she rose from picking it up, he got the sensation that she was studying him. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, finally replying, "My apologies."

She shrugged unceremoniously. "No problem. Fowl, right?"

Artemis nodded warily. "And y-"

"Could you point me to the restrooms, please?"

Artemis gestured wordlessly back toward the way he had come. She smiled a smile that almost-but-not-quite reached her brown eyes, passing him. He resisted the urge to watch her walk away, but he was bound by the reputation he had formed for himself. He smiled inwardly as he resumed his post - unfortunately, that reputation seemed to comprise of the label "virgin for life."

But now, eight months later, Artemis contemplated the mundane events of that night. They seemed to commence a new stage of thinking for him, though he was too confused about the fact that he was even contemplating the subject to actually grab hold of an opinion on it. He knew one thing, however - this visitor would be his test subject, and it was justified by one of the oldest motives in the world.

Artemis's father, still deluded enough to walk this path of legality, was taking in the daughter of a new business associate's while he and his wife attended business in Peru. Angeline Fowl had told her son minor details - she was English, his age, and a fan of reading. He hadn't been able to help rolling his eyes - she had just described about one third of the teenage female population of the civilized world.

"She's here," Butler informed Artemis, poking his head into the study. Artemis looked up from the chosen expanse of space into which he stared, giving a slight nod. He rose and followed the older man.

Upon his entrance into the foyer, his mouth dropped open. The daughter wore jeans and a red sweater with brunette hair drawn into a neat ponytail. In her arms was a copy of Dan Brown's _The Da Vinci Code_. She was listening attentively to what Angeline Fowl was telling her, but when Artemis entered she turned observant brown eyes to him.

"Artemis," his mother said, motioning to the girl, "I'd like you to meet Natalie Sheridan. Natalie, this is my son, Artemis."

Natalie gave a knowing smile, offering her hand for Artemis to shake. "I'd like to give you the grand tour, if you don't mind," Angeline interjected.

"Of course," Natalie replied politely. "Nice to meet you, Artemis."

As Artemis's mother led their guest away into the parlor, he found himself watching her go. He caught himself before his eyes went anywhere they shouldn't have, but it was far too late.

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Scholarly interest, _my arse_.

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I'm going to stop here and leave this as a vignette.

So? What did everyone think?


End file.
